Eight Hunting Lyons (The Lyon’s Den Connected World)

Chapter Eleven

T he butler’s footsteps echoed off the walls as he went to present Varley with Edward’s visiting card. Edward put his hands behind his back, wondering if he’d be accepted though expecting to be refused. If the latter, he’d leave the explanatory note that was currently tucked into his pocket.

But he hoped he’d be allowed to see Varley’s face after being told Harriet was now most definitely off the shelf. He didn’t know what the man was up to, but the charade was over. There’d be no more coach rides or walks in the park.

Before long, the servant returned. “Mr. Varley will see you, my lord,” he said, inclining his bald head. “Please follow me.”

Edward allowed the man to lead him to a large, candlelit study that smelled of leather and beeswax. Varley, with one hand behind his back and the other clasping a glass, stood by the empty hearth.

“Eskdale,” he said, his chin lifting. “To what do I owe this dubious pleasure?”

“No, thank you.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“No, I don’t want a drink, but it was hospitable of you to ask.”

The man huffed. “Just get to the point. I assume the visit has something to do with Miss Hurst. Are you here to find out where I’ll be taking her on our next outing? You know, so you can accidently show up as usual? I don’t know what your game is, but it’s becoming tedious.”

Edward smiled. “Well, since we’re on the subject of games, I’m here to tell you yours is over. There won’t be a next outing with Miss Hurst.”

The smirk on Varley’s face vanished. “Why not? What have you done?”

“I’ve put a stop to whatever game it is you’re playing.”

The man flinched. “I’m not playing a game. I happen to genuinely care for the girl.”

“I don’t believe you, Varley, and you’ll not be seeing Miss Hurst anymore.” Edward took a step closer. “In fact, if I find out you’ve been anywhere near her, I’ll push your teeth down your throat.”

Varley stared at him for a moment, then his top lip furled. “You’ve always been an arrogant prick, Eskdale, but you’re not as clever as you think you are.”

“Meaning what?”

“Meaning it’s not me whose been playing a game; it’s you . You’ve been dancing to other people’s tunes this entire time. You’re partially right. I was never interested in Harriet Hurst till a so-called friend of yours blackmailed me into playing the part of her suitor. My pursuit of her was nothing but a ruse intended to make you jealous. But then the ruse became serious, and I grew fond of the girl. Something I did not foresee. However, it seems its original intention has worked, and Miss Hurst has landed herself a viscount.”

A cold hand squeezed Edward’s heart. He searched the man’s face, seeking duplicity, but saw none. He reached nonetheless. “You’re lying.”

Varley laughed. “Why would I lie? I have nothing to gain by it. Quite the opposite, in fact. I was threatened and sworn to secrecy, so I’ll likely be looking down the barrel of a gun come morning. It’s all been a game, instigated and initiated by the Dove-Lyon woman and Pendlewood. I’m not sure if Miss Hurst is involved or not. In any case, congratulations on your upcoming marriage, Eskdale. The one you’ve been herded into like a sheep.” He shook his head and looked away. “And it’s not the first time, you stupid fool.”

Edward heard the rattle of breath in his lungs and felt the solid thud of his heart beneath his ribs. He reached for the back of a chair and grasped it, steadying himself.

“A game,” he said. “This entire thing has been a game.”

Varley downed the contents of his glass. “I believe the intentions were well meant, but yes, you’ve been duped.”

“By Pendlewood.”

“Yes.”

“And Dove-Lyon.”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Christ.” Shock and disbelief buzzing in his brain, Edward turned away, trying to make sense of something that made no sense at all. Had he really been deceived? And by a man he trusted more than anyone else in the world?

And as for Harriet…

His gut churned. What did she know of this? Had she been playing the game as well? As the rest of Varley’s words caught up with him, another unthinkable suspicion slithered into his mind. Eyes narrowed, he turned back. “What do you mean, it’s not the first time?”

“Nothing.” Varley set his glass down. “I meant nothing, Eskdale. I should not have said it.”

Edward hissed. “But you did say it, Varley, and you’ll tell me what it meant, or by God, I’ll beat it out of you.”

“I’m not the one who should explain,” he replied, now looking markedly pale. “Bardsea is.”

“Bardsea.” The name alone was like a fist to Edward’s gut. “My brother-in-law.”

Varley nodded. “Yes.”

Edward struggled against a vicious rise of anger and lost the battle. With a roar, he flew at Varley, grabbed the man by the throat, and shoved him against the wall.

“Tell me what you meant,” he said through gritted teeth. “What does Bardsea have to do with anything?”

Varley, his face turning the color of a plum, tried to pry Edward’s hands free. “Let me go, Eskdale,” he gurgled. “I can’t bloody breathe.”

Edward curled his lip. “The thought of you not breathing ever again is actually quite appealing right now. Speak, damn you! Explain what you meant.” He tightened his hold. “Does this have to do with Julia? Does it?”

“Y…yes.”

“Go on.”

“Release…me,” he said, his eyes watering, “and I swear I’ll…I’ll tell you what I know.”

Edward snarled and dropped his hands. “Everything,” he said. “You’ll tell me everything, or I’ll permanently change the shape of your face.”

Coughing and spluttering, Varley tugged at his cravat. “I’m not sure I know everything or how much is actually true. Bardsea was in his cups when he told me.”

“Told you what?”

“That you were tricked into marrying his sister.”

“Bardsea gave me little choice,” Edward said, his mind already preparing for a truth he hardly dared to consider. “She was with child.”

Varley wiped a waterfall of saliva from his chin. “What do you remember about the night you seduced her? Not much, I warrant, considering all the wine you’d consumed. Think back and see if you can recall who actually did the seducing. The act needed to take place, after all. It needed to be real. Yes, Julia was with child when you married her.” Varley swallowed visibly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “But the child wasn’t yours, Eskdale. The real father was a soldier, I think. In any case, an unsuitable husband for the daughter of an earl. A viscount was a much better choice. The night you supposedly seduced Julia was totally orchestrated. She was already increasing at the time. Bardsea fobbed the child off on you to save face.”

As the clock on the mantel ticked away the seconds, Edward steeled himself against an expected wave of shock and anger. But to his surprise, it never materialized. Quite the opposite. It was as if all traces of emotion had suddenly been sucked out of him, leaving nothing but a cold, empty void. His mind, too, was as clear as a cloudless sky. Without question, he knew exactly what he needed to do next.

“If you speak of this to anyone else, Varley,” he said, “I’ll kill you. I swear it.” Then he turned and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?” Varley called. “For God’s sake, Eskdale, don’t do anything foolish.”

“It’s too damn late for that,” Edward replied and headed out into the autumn night. He had visits to make and people to see.